He Who Must Not Be Loved
by RecklessDelirium
Summary: After catching his gf cheating on him with another man, Tom Riddle is dumped on the spot, and the only friend who can comfort him is none other but Lily Evans [Potter] The story unfolds and we find out the truth behind Voldemort, Lily, and Harry Potter.
1. I Just Wanted To Be Loved

**Author's Note:** Wow. This is fun. I just started a fanfiction story yesterday and impulsively today, whilst reading fanfiction again of course, started another story. :D But this one actually goes somewhere : ) I'm unsure of what genre to put this in. It starts out a lot more light hearted, but inevitably will turn a bit serious. Also, there's a bit of romance I suppose, but the romance is kept at minimum, only because I'm awful at writing romance. And because, for heaven's sakes, it's Voldemort and Lily Potter : )

**Setting:** This is set in Hogwarts, the 7th year of a generation back from Harry Potter himself - so in other words, the 7th year of James and Lily Potter. Just for kicks, **I've shifted Voldemort's time frame back a bit and he is now the same age as James and Lily. **Cool. Great. Spectacular.

**Disclaimers:** Characters, as well as practically everything else, belongs to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Problems, Headaches, and Disgusting Habits **

**Lily's POV **

"_I JUST WANTED TO BE LOVED!"_ his screech sounded like my mother's when she was experiencing pre-menstrual symptoms whilst screaming at father.

I twitched as the disturbingly loud and choked up sob echoed in the streets of Hogsmeade, shaking the ground a bit.

Mothers pulled their children closer.

Children pulled their dolls closer.

And the men would've pulled their egos closer if they had paid more attention to their surroundings.

"There there Tommy," I put on the softest voice I could muster, in an attempt to comfort him, "everything will be alright; let's stop crying now okay?"

I tried my best to smile, and to my relief he quieted down for a few seconds, wiped his nose on his sleeve (I'll have to lecture him on that disgusting habit later), and lifted his eyes to mine.

But of course, I couldn't just leave it there.

"See? Everything's going to be okay! Don't worry; you still have me! How bout this; we'll go get some Ben and Jerry's; I'll even ask the lady to add crushed oreos, just like you like it. Won't that be nice? And soon you'll forget about that little heartless-" Before I could finish he had erupted in tears and was once again bawling all over the place.

I sighed.

This was useless.

I could feel the eyes of strangers glued on Tom and I.

This was ridiculous! Simply ridiculous.

Hell, it was _beyond_ ridiculous.

Lily Evans was _not_ going to tolerate this behavior. I had more patience than most witches and wizards my age, but even I had a limit. And his tear-drenched seven-day let-us-all-gather-together-and-torture-Lily session was pushing the limit further than I thought anything could.

Ugh, I let out a frustrated groan.

The more he cried, the more people stared, and the more angry- I mean the angrier I became. Even my usual accurate grammar senses were failing me.

I could feel my face heating up and I knew what was coming. I stopped walking, took a breath, and stared him straight in the eye.

"THOMAS. MARVOLO. RIDDLE. WILL YOU JUST _SHUT THE HELL UP_! YOU ARE ACTING LIKE AN IMMATURE LITTLE _TWIT_, AND YOUR _INCESSANT_ BAWLING IS MAKING A _HUGE SCENE_; WILL YOU _PLEASE_ GET A FREAKING HOLD OF YOUR DENSE, _WORTHLESS SELF_?" I glared at him, fuming, taking deep breaths to calm myself down.

If I hadn't known better, I would've thought that my little outburst had worked.

But of course I knew better.

And of course I was right. It did nothing but make the situation worse.

Tom took one startled look at me, as tears, much to my regret, started welling up in his eyes again. He wiped his nose on his sleeve (god he really needs to stop doing that), and stormed off.

Great. Just great.

* * *

Note: Evans is Lily's maiden name for those who didn't know. 

Next chapter will be longer!


	2. Frank Longbottom

**Author's Note:** Ah yes, so it has come to my attention that our favorite evil villain Voldie (as well as apparently every character) is acting out of character. And I know. : ) As I started writing this yesterday, I thought to myself, "wow, this is ridiculous." I _know_ that Tom Riddle became known as "Lord Voldemort" in his early years of Hogwarts, and that he was feared. I _know_ that he is an awful _awful_ man who kills merely to gain power. I _know_ he had no real friends. And, I'm suprised no one has mentioned this yet, but I _know _Lily Potter was a muggle-born. (Voldemort doesn't know this yet of course) I've done my research. But for heaven's sakes this is _fanfiction_. I personally think that the "bad guys" in our world are not born evil, and that somewhere somehow, they have a soft spot. At least, I'd like to believe that. I think everything we do is based on _how_ we grew up, and _who_ we grew up with. This entire _plot line_ is "out of character". I mean, could you imagine Voldemort ever falling in love? _Ever_? So how do we know how he would react if his 17-year-old heart was ever broken, right? It's not like Rowling wrote a biography on Voldemort. He is simply the villain in her story. I'm taking JK Rowling's wonderful and brilliant plot, and twisting it into something ridiculous. With that being said…

**Disclaimer:** Please don't kill me…

* * *

**Chapter 2: Riddle, Reminiscence, and The Attractive Frank Longbottom**

_Tom Riddle paced around the Slytherin common room, muttering things under his breath – perhaps talking to himself, who knows._

**Tom Riddle's POV**

I can't believe that girl.

I had always considered Lily Evans the most considerate person ever. I simply could not believe she had just screamed my head off and called me _worthless_. And _dense_.

Lord Voldemort is _not_ dense!

What a thoughtless little wench. She should just leave me like everyone else does and go _frolic_ in the grass with _Alice Kinley_ (I made a face) and her disgusting yet attractive lover, _Frank Longbottom_.

The thought made me shudder.

It had already been a week since her _betrayal_ and I still felt awful. And Lord Voldemort does not admit to such emotions so easily.

Trust me.

I _am_ Lord Voldemort.

Speaking of which, I really wished more people would call me by that name. I had insisted it on my Slytherin lower classmen but even they were starting to call me "Tommie-boy" or the boring "Tom", or worse, "Riddle."

I hated that name. I despised it. For starters it belonged to my father. And I wanted no connection to that-, I shivered, _muggle_.

Secondly, the name Riddle simply did not match my facial features. Take one look at my handsome face, and you would agree too. My jet-black hair was smooth, shiny, and beautiful, and accompanied my dark eyes perfectly. I grinned and openly admitted to myself, and I'm quite the modest one, that I was the envy of all Hogwarts students.

Every man wished to be me, and every woman wanted me. Every woman – except _her_.

_What could Alice possibly have wanted more?_

How could she have left _me_, Lord Voldemort, for a pathetic, yet attractive, lowlife like _Longbottom_. It just made no sense. She must've been out of her mind! No one in this world would choose anyone over me. It was just _not possible_.

I stopped my pacing and my mind jumped to a brilliant revelation. Perhaps Longbottom tricked her into doing it.

He must've.

Now that I think about it, she did seem a bit out of character that one night… that one…_fateful_…night…

**_One Week Prior_**

**(3rd Person Narration)**

Lord Voldemort skipped to Alice Kinley's bedroom, completely ignoring the snickers of his peers as he passed by, for he was _so_ looking forward to the night of _hot lovin'_ she had promised him. He smiled widely, flung her door open, and yelled, in the deepest manliest voice possible, "I'M HERE HONEY-BUNS! LORD VOLDEMO-…"

His eyes widened as he took the scene in.

She was…

She was….

_She was wearing muggle clothing._

"_What,_ in _bloody_ _hell_, are you _wearing!" _he spat the words out with disgust.

"Calm down Tommie; it's just a pair of jeans, nothing big." She paused and glanced up at him. "What're you glaring at? _It's just a pair of jeans._"

_Just_ a _what! _Lord Voldemort reddened in the face. Not only was she betraying his pureblooded morals, but she even knew the _name_ to that dis_gusting_ article of clothing.

It was awful.

He was traumatized.

He had to do something. And quick. Someone might see them together and think that Lord Voldemort had stepped to the evil side and accepted muggle clothing.

Accepted muggle habits.

Accepted muggle genes.

And jeans.

In short - _Accepted his father's heritage. _

Without thinking twice, he jumped on the small girl, and attempted to rip her pants off.

"_What are you doing?" _she screamed in protest and hit him with her small fists.

"TAKE IT OFF!" he roared.

Suddenly the dorm room, which was connected to the shower room, opened, and an attractively wet, muscular, tall, dark, and wavy-haired Frank Longbottom stepped in. He was wearing nothing but a towel, much to Voldemort's disgust.

Longbottom was just about to say something to Alice when he realized Voldemort's presence. He froze in fear.

"Get OUT _Longbottom_, can't you see we're busy?" Voldemort made a face. "And put on a shirt!" He paused. "And pants! What in Merlin's world are you doing withou- …"

Lord Voldemort was not stupid.

If it hadn't been for James Potty-boy, he was sure he'd have been made Head Boy. And with this brilliant mind, he put the pieces together.

"IS THAT A MUGGLE TRADITION?" In his fury, he dug his nails into Alice's shoulders, and she grimaced in pain.

"Wh-..what?…" The attractive, wet, muscular, tall, dark, and wavy-haired man stuttered profusely, and inched towards the exit.

"That _towel_ around your waist! _Is that a muggle tradition? _What do they call that – a sarong? A _kilt_, or something?IS THIS WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT?" Voldemort glared at Alice and Frank both. "WHY ARE YOU ALL WEARING SCOTTISH MUGGLE APPARAL?"

Alice let out a sharp whine of pain, and forcefully pushed Voldemort off her. He was so surprised at this that he lost his balance and tumbled onto the floor. "Oh for heaven's SAKES _Riddle_," she said the last word like a curse, "why are you so dense when it comes to these things! I'm cheating on you with Frank, okay? There."

Voldemort let this sink in. He felt like she had stabbed him with something you use to stab people with. And he could feel his head getting dizzy. The last thing he wanted was to faint in front of muggle-clothed Alice and her naked Scottish lover. He picked himself up, and stumbled through the doorway, humiliated.

* * *

**After-note:** P.S. Scottish pride. :D I go to a Scottish private school. Our mascot wears a kilt to football games : )

P.P.S. I know most Harry Potter fanfiction writers try pretty hard to make their writing sound British (Although I'm not one to judge whether the writing actually does), but I'm pretty sure it would be an awful imitation if I ever attempted this, so I guess everyone is officially American.


End file.
